


Three's Company

by ForbiddenSnack



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Porn With Plot, Tandred has no concept of knocking, also Non-Accidental Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenSnack/pseuds/ForbiddenSnack
Summary: Captain Tandred Proudmoore prepares for the upcoming Battle of Dazar'alor, and is promptly handed more than he asked for.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw, Flynn Fairwind/Tandred Proudmoore/Mathias Shaw, Mathias Shaw/Edwin VanCleef (Past)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from from the series of achievements awarded for hitting certain ratings in 3v3 arena. I'm not sure what class Tandred would be, but I don't think it matters. Two rogues is already a terrible start to a 3s comp.

The Keep was quiet in the evenings. Tandred’s footsteps echoed down the hall, heels clicking against the carefully laid stones. He came to rest before a set of tall wooden doors that led to the strategy hall. Removing his tricorne with one hand, he braced the other against the heavy wood and pushed.

“Lord Admiral.”

Jaina snapped up from her papers, startled. Her expression eased once she realized who was at the door. “Please, Tandred. I’m still not quite accustomed to the title just yet.”

Tandred grinned. “All the more reason for me to use it.”

Jaina returned his smile easily. “Of course, Captain. Now, what can I do for you?”

“Can’t a man seek out the company of his sister?” He teased, then sobered a fraction. “But so it happens, I thought there’s something we should discuss. About the siege that’s to take place.”

Jaina set her pen aside. “Does something trouble you?”

“Dazar’alor is the capital city of the Zandalari trolls, there is no doubt it will be heavily guarded. I was wondering how you plan to proceed once we make landfall.”

Jaina inclined her head. “A valid concern, but why did you not bring it up at the war meeting?”

Tandred shrugged. “I figured it wasn’t my place to ask, my role is with the fleet. But I can’t help but worry.”

“Your concern is appreciated, but there’s no need to worry. There is a plan in place to divert their land forces elsewhere while we launch the attack from Zuldazar. However, I don’t have the all details. You should speak with Mathias Shaw. I believe he is back as of this morning from an expedition to Nazmir in organization of this very plan.”

Tandred groaned inwardly. Mathias Shaw, Spymaster of the Alliance, was far from what he would consider personable. The man was as professional as he was uptight and dour, with a permanent scowl etched on his face and what might very well be a literal stick up his arse, what with the stiffness of his ramrod-straight posture. Just when Tandred thought he couldn’t be more unbearable, the upcoming invasion had seen him assigned to a mission with Flynn Fairwind, and they have been inseparable ever since.

If Shaw was a hawk, dangerous and brooding, content to observe with sharp eyes from afar, then Flynn was a parrot. Loud, spirited, and absolutely unapologetic about it. Obnoxious, yet lovable all the same. The two were perfect polar opposites. How they ended up in each other’s company was beyond his mortal comprehension. He thought about the way he’s seen Flynn look at Shaw, and then about how he was once at the receiving end of those looks. It was enough to make his heart ache. He briefly considered not bothering with it.

“Tand?”

Tandred was, however, nothing if proud. He was a Proudmoore, after all, and Captain of the Kul Tiran navy. Even if he couldn't be said to be as disciplined as Shaw (the notion of _anyone_ being as disciplined as Shaw is so ridiculous as to be nigh impossible), he’s professional enough to not let his personal feelings interfere with his work. And the work ahead was arduous. Though it wasn't information he strictly needed, it would put his mind at ease if he knew what to expect. He's lost Jaina once. He can't stand the thought of it happening again.

“I see. I shall pay him a visit then. Thank you, Jaina. Seas be with you,” he said, placing the tricorne back on his head to bid her farewell.

“And you, brother.”

  


* * *

  


It was a clear night in Boralus, giving way to a starlit sky, but the puddles that lined the streets were evidence of the rarity of such an occurrence during the season. The evening air was crisp, but not yet verging on cold. It would be a pleasant walk to the _Wind’s Redemption_ , if not for the need to avoid the puddles and the way his thoughts swarmed uncertainly in his mind.

“Captain Proudmoore.” Stepping across the gangplank, he was greeted with a smart salute by a 7th Legion marine. He nodded at her in acknowledgement before directing himself below decks towards the cabins.

Few people besides the Lord Admiral would still be working at this time, but he had no doubt Shaw would be one of them. The muted candlelight seeping out from the gap beneath his door seemed to confirm this. Well, might as well get it over with. Taking a breath, he swung the door aside and stepped through in one swift motion.

“Master Shaw--”

The words caught in his throat before he could finish his sentence. The man in question was currently bent over his desk. Or, more precisely, bent over Flynn Fairwind, who was wedged between Shaw’s front and the desk. One of Shaw’s hands tangled in Flynn’s auburn ponytail while the other supported his weight against the table. They were both fully clothed, but with the blush rising high on their cheeks and their wide-eyed bewilderment - an expression Tandred was sure he’d never seen on Shaw before - there was no mistaking their intentions. For a long and terrifying moment there was silence, all parties too stunned to move or speak or do anything else but stare.

Tandred was the first to break the stillness, turning on his heels and leaving without saying a word or waiting for one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually think of Tandred as someone who never knocks but I need him to be for this fic to work the way I want it to ok


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flynn and Shaw's POV leading up to the situation at the end of Chapter 1

“Are you even listening, mate?”

Flynn broke off from a pantomimed recount of his expedition to Jorundall ( _lightning-breathing dragons_ , I tell you!) that morning to fix Shaw with a look of mock affront. He could charm a saurok with his stories if he put his mind to it, he’s sure. But the man in front of him insisted on being more difficult than saurok. “You must be the only person on this ship - nay, in the entire city with a pen still in his hand at this hour. Have you been working since you came back?”

Shaw wanted to counter that he most definitely cannot be the only person in Boralus with a pen, even now, but that would only beget further quips from the incorrigible ex-pirate.

“The war won’t stop on my account. Or yours, for that matter,” he tries instead.

This makes Flynn double over in inexplicable laughter. Leave it to the man to find humour in things that weren’t meant to be amusing in the slightest.

“Blimey. Kick your boots off a little, will you? Everyone else must’ve stopped working long ago. I’m sure you can too.”

“No,” Shaw wanted to remind him that they were planning an assault on the _capital of Zandalar_ , for Light’s sake, but the thought was chased from his mind by Flynn, who came up behind him and looped sturdy arms around his front.

“How about trading that pen in your hand for something else?” Flynn said, voice dipping low and dripping with suggestiveness.

“Captain…”

“Come on, love. Haven’t seen you in days. Surely you brought me a little something from Nazmir?”

Shaw felt Flynn’s hot breath on his ear as his hands travelled south on cue. Blood rapidly drained from his brain, diverted elsewhere. Tension in the room stretched like a rope. It would be impossible for him to work like this, he had to rein in the situation before it reached a breaking point. Gathering his thoughts, he prepared to deliver them in askance.

Only to suddenly feel Flynn’s lips at the nape of his neck, followed by a drag of teeth, making his pants strain and his hairs stand on end. He drew in a sharp breath. The tension snapped like bowstring. Work might not stop for him, but perhaps it could stand to take a pause.

Shaw stood, grabbed the hands that were tracing down his abdomen just moments ago, and kicked his chair aside. He reversed their positions so Flynn was now in front of him, and slammed him and his laughter into the desk. The laugh turned into a contented sigh as Flynn felt Shaw’s now hard length press into his backside.

“That’s it, love. Show me what you plan to do to the Zandalari at the invasion. _Send me to the Tidemother_ ,” Flynn breathed. Shaw should be annoyed at that, but as it was, he couldn’t help the smirk that crawled up beneath his moustache. 

He threaded his fingers through Flynn’s ponytail so he could pull his head back. The way they were positioned, chest pressed to back, made angles awkward for kissing, so he instead sought out the spot where Flynn’s jaw met his neck, licking and biting roughly at the skin there possessively. It _has_ been a few days. This coaxed a soft but thoroughly unabashed moan from Flynn, which Shaw very much felt in his cock. Bracing his other hand against the table, he used the leverage to roll his hips forward against Flynn’s ass. This earned him another, louder moan, spurring him on.

The armour and clothing would have to come off at some point, lest he make a real mess of them, but for now he was content to just grind against Flynn like this. Flynn was cursing and shoving back against his throbbing erection so fervently, he hardly saw the need for anything else. He disengaged his mouth from Flynn’s neck to let it fall open in a hot, ragged pant, joining the quiet dissonance of Flynn's groans and the squeaking of the desk below them. Pleasure spiked through him with every drag of his stiffness over Flynn's body. He was just about to make a move to reach down and replace the ponytail in his hand with Flynn’s cock when suddenly--

“Master Shaw--”

The door flew open. Both men looked up to see Tandred Proudmoore, eyes wide with shock and some other expression that Shaw's addled brain couldn't quite put words to. For a long while, two men stared at one, frozen in place like spotted prey, Shaw’s hand still patently gripping Flynn’s ponytail.

Then, as abruptly as he had burst through the door, Tandred turned and strode out of the room without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

The door slammed itself shut in the wake of Tandred’s departure.

A million thoughts ran through Shaw’s mind, but one in particular was at the forefront of it all.

“Why didn’t you lock the door?!” Shaw hissed, stepping back as he drew himself upright.

“Didn’t think I needed to, mate. Didn’t figure anyone would come barging in. Who in tide’s sake would have business with you at this hour?” Flynn turned around to face Shaw, leaning back to half-sit against the table.

“Captain Proudmoore, apparently.” Shaw dragged a hand down his face, still burning from the unexpected intrusion. “Or not. He seemed to be in a hurry to be elsewhere.” He figured he didn’t need to mention that he probably would’ve heard the approaching footsteps if his mind hadn’t been preoccupied.

“Don’t think he fancies what we were doing.” Flynn murmured, so softly that Shaw might not have caught it if he hadn’t been who he was. He arched a brow at Flynn.

“I don’t mean it like that! It’s...the idea of you...and I…” Flynn stammered. “Tides, man. It’s complicated. You know it is.”

Unfortunately, Shaw did. He was good at reading people. Nothing slipped past him if he was keeping watch, and he’d been keeping a watch on Flynn alright. It started out innocently enough, when he caught the handsome captain in the neighbouring berth looking at him - with passing glances at first, progressing into what could only be described as gawking. When the captain noticed him noticing, a dazzling flash of teeth would follow. And so it went, bit by bit, notice by notice. Like the falling tide, Flynn started drawing Shaw in ever so slowly. 

Making eyes at each other from afar alone wasn’t enough to get one into the other’s bed, however. It took too close a call of a mission to the Zandalari treasury together to finally turn the looks into invites to the inn. Always extended by Flynn, of course. Shaw didn’t fancy much of a drink often, as it was imperative he kept his wits about him. Despite that, he found it difficult to refuse. So sometimes, after a long day of missions and Azerite hauling, they would join each other at the Snug Harbour for long conversations that dragged on until last call, eventually seeing the night end in one of their cabins.

Then Tandred came back from the dead.

They hadn’t shared much of their earlier histories, as it was territory they both guarded carefully. But during one of their more drunken nights at the inn, Flynn had gotten to talking about Tandred, and Shaw about Edwin. Childhood friends, forced on diverging paths by circumstance. For Shaw, it had been his loyalty to the crown; for Flynn, a life scouring the seas with pirates. Neither had been much of a choice, but both saw them spared the tragedy that had befallen their companions in the end.

Except in Tandred’s case, it didn’t turn out to be an end after all. The Tidesages’ magic was no match for Jaina’s, who broke through the conjured storm and brought the long-lost Kul Tiran fleet, along with their captain, home.

At this point, Shaw was aware of everything about Flynn, from the way his muscles flexed when he climbed ropes and hauled yards, to how he would stand and watch the horizon from the deck at sunset, serene and almost uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous energy. But most of all, he noticed that for all his brashness and confidence around others, he kept his head down near Tandred, never meeting his gaze. As if he were afraid of what would happen if he did.

He thought of the expression he saw on Tandred before he made his exit. It was one of shock mixed with something else he couldn’t quite place - no, didn’t _want_ to place at the time. Hurt. No doubt Flynn had made the same observation, and was now bringing it to his attention, while still leaving the choice of acknowledging it to him. He could shrug it off, but one glance at Flynn and he knew he wouldn’t. A lump rose in his throat.

“So what now?” he asked cautiously.

“I should talk to him,” Flynn replied. This earned him a sharp glare from Shaw. “Please, Mathias. I have to.”

The glare turned into a frown. Flynn was a considerate man, if a bit oblivious at times, but Shaw didn’t think he’d actually have to voice his displeasure with the idea. He hoped his expression would suffice.

He should've known it wouldn't.

“What would you do if it had been Edwin?” The Spymaster was not often caught off guard, but for all the overanalyzing he did, he could not have anticipated this among the possible follow-ups. He would narrow his eyes if he could, but all he managed to do was blink at Flynn.

“I know the situations are a bit different. Tand and I were, ah, never technically an item. But still. I’m sure you understand how I felt when he was declared lost at sea.” 

Shaw still remembered receiving the report on his desk containing news of Edwin’s death. There had never been any question of its necessity; the Defias Brotherhood threatened the kingdom and killed its beloved queen. But the jolt of guilt and pain that shot through him now mirrored the one he had felt when he first received word of the Defias leader’s fate. He motioned for Flynn to continue.

“I was in a dark place. I mourned for him, but also for something that was never there because I never had the spine to take it. I tried to drown my sorrows at the bottom of a barrel, but only hated myself more for it.” He took a shaky breath as he stood and closed the distance between them. “Until you came along. You saved me from myself, Matt. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake with you.” Shaw softened when Flynn’s eyes lit up at that. He couldn't even be irked at Flynn's use of the nickname. “Then Tand came back, seemingly from the dead. But he might as well not have. I can’t bring myself to face him, not when I have you. It tears me up inside. Tell me you wouldn’t go back and right things if you could.”

Shaw swallowed thickly. “I have you now, too.”

“That you do, love,” Flynn chuckled, wrapping his arms around Shaw’s waist and nuzzling himself into his shoulder. “But you didn’t answer the question.”

Shaw thought about Edwin. His first love. He had taught Edwin everything he knew about being a rogue. To throw a knife, to pick a lock, to be but a shadow above the rooftops. And in return, Edwin taught him about being human. To laugh, to kiss, to look for something in the future beyond his next target. The possibility of a life worth living beyond duty. It was not something one could forget easily, if ever. He knows. He’s tried.

Then he thought about Flynn. With his sharp jawline, strong build, and smirk that got him into trouble as often as it got him out of it, anyone in Boralus could tell you he was an attractive man. But while his physical features had sparked Shaw’s interest, it was something else, something beneath those eyes the colour of stormy seas, that held it. There was something honest there, as promising as the scarlet sunsets he now regularly watched with Flynn. For all he had suffered throughout his life, he still wore his heart on his sleeve. Shaw couldn’t say what the future held for them yet, but he was sure he wanted Flynn there every step of the way, taking each with him when he was ready, never pushing for more but always eager for it.

Would he go back if he could? For him, it wasn’t an option, that much was as certain as the regret that had sowed its seed when he and Edwin parted ways and taken root in the years that followed. But here was a man with the chance to put to rest what he never could, and another to receive the closure Edwin deserved but never got. Flynn’s heart, with all his generosity, was big enough for them both. He couldn't deny them this.

Shaw sighed, but felt himself give a small nod.

“I knew you’d understand.” Flynn turned and pressed a kiss into the side of his neck before pulling back and giving one of his trademark grins that rarely meant anything good. “Besides, you gotta admit that bloke’s a looker, aye?”

At that, Shaw said nothing, but the furious flush that crept its way up his face was all the answer Flynn needed. Flynn ruffled his hair, tousling the ginger locks and stifled a giggle against his lips with a long kiss that left the taste of whiskey and the faintest of smiles lingering.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how unrealistic this plot is but let's be real, you're not reading it for the plot

Ships swayed gently with the waves where they sat moored. On a cloudless night like this, the water shone like dark glass, reflecting the twin moons which cast the harbour in an ethereal light. It was the perfect picture of calm, yet Tandred’s mind was anything but. He could still see the  _ Wind’s Redemption _ at the periphery of his vision, and considered moving to change that. But he didn’t know where else he would go. This was the spot he always sought out for a breath of air, since his days of shirking lessons to get into trouble with the local boys. With Flynn. He felt as though he already had his soul crushed today. He wasn’t about to lose this, too.

Even if he couldn’t bring himself to care about Shaw, he should be glad for Flynn. Truly, if he loved Flynn, he would put his happiness above his own. Perhaps he didn’t love Flynn after all, because he didn’t take the chance when he had it, so many moons ago it might as well have been a lifetime. Instead, it was all he did to stand on the edge, watching, afraid to take the last step to close the distance between them. Afraid that the weight of something more will send them both plunging into the uncharted depths below. But perhaps that would’ve been preferable to the pain he felt now, to the what-if that will surely haunt him for as long as he draws breath.

What an absurd world they lived in.

It was then he heard the sound of boots falling on the salt-licked wood behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a broad frame approaching, and recognized its owner before he spoke, voice familiar yet distant. Like coming home after months of being lost at sea, only to find none of the comforts of home waiting.

“Tandred. Mind if I join you?”

His stomach dropped at the use of his name, instead of the nickname Flynn always used to call him by. He kept his gaze on the sea, neither accepting nor rejecting the unexpected company. Flynn took that to mean a yes, situating himself next to him, shoulder and thigh a hair’s breadth away from his own. It was too close for comfort, all things considered, but Tandred couldn’t bring himself to move away.

Flynn was sporting a simple shirt, his signature coat nowhere in sight. Strands escaped the ribbon that held his ponytail in place, making him look either windswept or fucked out. Or both. He must’ve left in a hurry if he hadn’t bothered to throw on a coat or straighten his hair. He eyed Tandred with concern, clearly waiting for Tandred to speak first. Giving him space, despite their close proximity.

“How did you find me?”

It was clearly not the question Flynn expected. Surprise flashed across his face before he burst into nervous laughter, as if he were afraid of spooking a flighty animal. Tandred could feel it through the margin of air between them, making his heart leap and wrench simultaneously.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your thinking spot, mate. You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Wish I could say the same for you.” He tried not to let the bitterness show through his voice, but he knew he wasn’t successful as soon the words left his mouth. Flynn’s sigh confirmed it.

“I thought you dead. We all did.” Tandred couldn’t blame him for that. His own family had constructed a tomb for him, which now sat unused. “I nearly drank myself under the tides when I heard.”

Tandred swallowed, temper dissipating when the image of Flynn passed out in an alley somewhere sprang to mind.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too,” Flynn chuckled. Tandred could tell Flynn wanted to keep going, but wasn’t sure if he should. So he looked sidelongs at Flynn until he did.

“I was lost, Tand.” There it was, the nickname. “When you were declared missing, I lost a piece of myself with you. Didn’t know what to do for so long. But there was something about Matt-- Mathias, something in him that reminded me there was more to who I was than a drunk who could never get things right. I know it might not seem like it, but he really is a kind man. He never gives up on something he sets his mind to. He never gave up on me, despite my past.”

Tandred had never thought of him as anyone but Shaw, Spymaster of the Alliance, Master of Assassins. But for the first time, he thought he could piece together parts of Mathias, the man under the leather armour, just below the surface of Flynn’s words. Now that Flynn was in front of him, unmistakable fondness in his voice, he realized the truth he’d been avoiding the entire time: he would do anything to hear that voice, even if it wasn’t directed at him. He  _ did _ value Flynn’s happiness more than his own. He fought his wounds and tried to be happy for him while not looking too forlorn in the process. But Flynn, for all he was, could also be remarkably perceptive. His expression became pained.

“Surely I don’t have to tell you how much you mean to me, Tand. Not a single day went by since we met when I didn’t think of you, and nobody alive has known me longer than you have. But you’ve been distant lately, even before this whole ordeal happened. Couldn't have a member of the Proudmoore Admiralty, much less the son of the Lord Admiral himself, be seen with a miscreant like me, hm?”

Tandred scoffed. “Flynn, you know I don’t give a rat’s arse about that. But you had a choice, you know. I could’ve taken care of you.”

Flynn shook his head. “No, I needed to live a life for myself, and I took the only path available to me. Dishonest work, but it was work.” He looked into the distance, not keen to continue. Deciding now was the time to fix his ponytail, he gathered the disheveled strands and retied them to clear it of evidence of his earlier activities.

“I was scared,” Tandred finally admitted, voice soft. “Scared of losing you, that you had moved on and there would be no place for me in your life.”

“So it happens, I’ve left that life behind. Not without a beating to go with it, mind you, but I couldn’t stomach it any longer.”

“Seems like I lost you anyway.”

“Not if I can help it." Flynn chewed his lip and regarded him, light from the streetlamps dancing in his eyes. "Why don’t you come back to the  _ Redemption  _ with me for a nightcap? We can talk more there.”

Tandred shot him a strange look, and for the first time since he came back, their eyes locked. Tandred’s eyes were blue, like Flynn’s own. But unlike his, which were deep as the ocean itself, Tandred’s were the piercing blue of the skies above. In them, Flynn thought he could see bits of Shaw, vulnerability folded impossibly tight so it can fit, hidden, behind what their positions demanded of them. There were few things Flynn enjoyed more than a good challenge.

“I promise, Mathias isn’t as bad as he makes himself seem. It’ll do you some good to get to know him. It would be good for him too, I think.”

Tandred was still skeptical, but not wanting the conversation to end here, he did the only thing he could. He nodded.

Flynn laughed, bright and deep in a way that made it almost all worth it. Slapping his thighs, he stood, then offered Tandred one of his hands.

Tandred clasped it, feeling the callouses under his palm, and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He cast a glance at the harbour before turning and following Flynn up the dock. Perhaps it was the falling darkness, but the moons shone brighter than they did aforetime.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn’t that he was cold, exactly, though the night air bit at Flynn’s arms when the breeze picked up, raising goosebumps where the hairs stood. His ever-present coat had become such a fixture of his self that he felt naked without it, exposed and vulnerable, even if it was hard to say how much protection its soft leather actually provided. He idly wondered if Shaw felt the same without his corset. The thing didn’t look comfortable in the slightest. It _did_ cut him a fine figure, so Flynn was never quite sure what to make of it. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Tandred, either. Silence was a rare thing between them; they never used to run out of things to talk about, parrying banter off each other naturally as any blade, but right now there was nothing to be said. So he instead listened to the faraway lap of waves, and relied on the sound of Tandred’s footsteps to make sure he was still following. 

It wasn’t long before they found themselves back at the _Wind’s_ _Redemption_. Returning a nod at the guard who acknowledged their presence, they made their way below decks towards Shaw’s cabin.

He looked back then. Tandred had a smile for him, but the way it didn’t reach his eyes betrayed his nervousness. Flynn grinned back, hoping to put his mind at ease. He’d wanted this for so long, but now that they were finally here, he couldn’t say he wasn’t feeling a bit anxious himself. He had never thought far enough to say what he actually expected to get out of a proper meeting between the two men.

Well. Only one way to find out.

He was about to push open the door before he thought better of it, and raised a hand to knock instead. The moment that stretched on was tense. He could hear Tandred’s breathing quicken in time with his own heartbeat. Thankfully, Shaw didn’t keep them waiting long.

He’d already changed out of his armour, leaving him in a loose cotton shirt and linen pants. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and he looked incredibly...human. Tandred wasn’t sure he was _capable_ of looking human, up until now. His brows knit together in confusion, or perhaps irritation, as his eyes darted between Flynn and Tandred. All in all, he had the look of someone who was clearly not expecting company.

“Brought a surprise for you,” Flynn offered, cheeriness in his voice. It was not without suggestiveness, but his tone spoke more of someone who was trying to defuse the situation than anything else.

“Surprises get spies killed,” Shaw replied under his breath. He gathered his manners anyway, stepping back so the door could open fully to let them through. He made his way to the spot he vacated in order to answer the door, though he remained standing, and motioned for Tandred to take the other chair at the side of the desk. This left Flynn, who had been closing the door, nowhere to sit except the bunk, where he settled without missing a beat.

“Captain,” Shaw prompted. Both men looked at him. He decided there was no use clarifying, and instead gestured to the glass of richly-coloured liquor on the table in front of him. “Care for a drink?”

“You know the answer to that,” was Flynn’s reply, while Tandred only had a stiff nod for him. Shaw thought about the last time he saw the blonde - when Tandred had walked in on them earlier, and heat threatened to rise up his neck. He quickly turned to the cabinet where he kept the liquor, composing himself before he turned back towards the table, a bottle and two more glasses in hand.

“So, what brings you here?” Shaw asked, setting down the glasses and uncorking the bottle. Tandred found himself transfixed by the flex of muscle in Shaw’s forearm as he poured the amber liquid. It took him a moment to register that he was being asked a question, and he flicked his gaze up to meet Shaw’s.

“I-...this was Flynn’s idea, actually. Though I ought to apologize about earlier,” he said, hoping Shaw hadn’t noticed the way he fumbled over his words. If he did, he didn’t let on, his expression passive as ever as he handed Tandred his glass. Their fingers brushed briefly.

Shaw attempted to wave him off, just as Flynn made his way over from his corner of the room. “Let us know if you need an encore,” he said with a wink.

Shaw felt his cheeks alight anew, unable to hide it this time. He thumped Flynn’s glass down in front of him with more force than necessary, who promptly picked it up and drained it in one go. Shaw shook his head and picked up his own glass, stealing a glance at Tandred all the while. His face was similarly flushed. Shaw sipped at the liquor, feeling a different warmth spread through him. Light. He didn’t drink often, but looks like he was going to need more to get through this evening.

Flynn seemed to find this all too entertaining, his demeanour from their conversations earlier nowhere in evidence. “Lighten up, mate. No need to make this awkward.”

“You’re the one making this awkward,” Shaw muttered into his glass. Tandred chuckled lightly. Shaw found himself unable to keep from a half-smirk, not yet drunk but his guard slipping nonetheless. He shook his head again. This was why he largely abstained from alcohol.

“I was serious,” Flynn said, crossing over behind Shaw to pull him into an embrace. Shaw could smell the alcohol mixed with seaspray on him, and against his back, the feel of something hard where their bodies pressed together. He raised an eyebrow, despite knowing Flynn can’t see it.

“You have no shame, do you?” His voice was hoarse.

“Not when it comes to my two favourite people in the world. Now,” Flynn leaned in to say directly into Shaw’s ear, low and husky, “I do believe we were interrupted in the midst of planning a very important invasion.”

Shaw’s libido, unsatisfied from earlier, reared its head and snarled. The thought of Tandred watching should’ve put him off, but he found the thought exhilarating. This will not do. He shifted his legs and pushed at Flynn with his hands, trying to maintain some decency. The soft pants he wore in lieu of his usual leathers weren’t doing him any favours.

He heard Tandred inhale sharply, and knew he wasn’t entirely successful in his efforts to preserve his modesty. He sighed and pushed harder until Flynn relented. He drew back with an entirely unwholesome grin, and went around to help himself to another glass of liquor.

“Is this your idea of a talk, Flynn?” Tandred asked from where he looked on.

“Action speaks louder than words,” Flynn said, unapologetic, “but I’m happy to let the two of you do the talking here.” His arousal was now plain to see, and unlike Shaw, he made no attempt to hide it. Shaw found himself unable to look away, the alcohol doing its job lowering his inhibitions. Flynn of course noticed, but he had only a laugh, raucous and completely lacking in any self-consciousness.

“Flynn…” Shaw warned, working circles into his temple, but his erection betrayed the consternation in his voice. He could feel his brain kicking into overdrive, unsure what to do with the situation at hand. He looked at Tandred, because Flynn was surely going to be no help in this, and found Tandred likewise trained on him. Their eyes locked. Shaw was distantly aware of Flynn moving beside him, but he paid him no heed, lost in those sky blue eyes that held fire, as if they could drown and burn a man at the same time. Something unspoken passed between them. He can’t say he’d given much thought to Tandred in the bedroom before, but now that it was on his mind, it wouldn’t leave him alone. The blonde was neat and disciplined in a way that no sailor was, yet rough around the edges like no noble he’d ever met, and he's met a few. His shirt hung low, offering a glimpse of his broad chest, dusted with golden hair and framed by the lapels of his longcoat. Shaw swallowed hard.

Flynn reached up and undid the ribbon that held his tail in place, shaking his hair loose and letting it cascade over his shoulders in a sheet of soft auburn. Shaw was well familiar with the way those locks felt clenched in his fists while they fucked, and wondered if Tandred’s blond hair would feel the same slipping through his fingers. He felt himself move before he could think better of it. At the same time, Tandred put down his half-finished glass and stood. They moved towards each other, drawn together by some force, but cautiously, as if each were scared of spooking the other. They both knew what they wanted, yet neither wanted to be the first to make a move. Thankfully and unthankfully, Flynn made the move for them before either could start contemplating whether this was really a good idea.

“Are you just going to stand there ogling each other?”

Tandred bit his bottom lip as he tore his gaze from Shaw to look at Flynn. The last of Shaw’s walls crumbled, felled by the wave of desire that washed over him. He flattened a hand against Tandred’s lapel, who snapped his attention back to Shaw, reaching out a hand of his own to place it at Shaw’s waist. Emboldened, Shaw started at one of Tandred’s several belt buckles. He wore just as many as Flynn did. Ridiculous.

Tandred worked one of his hands under Shaw’s shirt as he started peeling off his coat, having dealt with the belts. He ran it up Shaw’s side, feeling the ripple of ribs, the faint rise of a scar. The warmth beneath his palm was tangible and alluring, he couldn’t help but slide the other hand in as well. His thumb brushed a nipple, and Shaw’s breath hitched.

It didn’t take long for them to divest themselves of the rest of their clothing after that. From the corner of his vision, Tandred could see Flynn doing the same. They stood there for a moment, savouring the slight heady feeling that lingered from the alcohol and drinking each other in. Shaw’s eyes, normally a bright and vivid green, were now glassy and dark, pupils blown wide. His body was leaner than Tandred’s broad and strong build, suited for a life in the shadows over one at the seas, but the lines of muscle beneath his skin were no less cut than Tandred’s or Flynn’s. Tandred raked his own eyes downward, settling on the jut of Shaw’s arousal, and felt himself twitch in response.

Shaw’s hands found Tandred’s chest, guiding him backwards towards his bunk. They fell atop the mattress together in a heap of limbs, and he could feel the heat of Tandred’s erection against his stomach. His own was aching and straining with how hard he was, having been worked up for as long as he has. Without taking his eyes off the other man, he reached into his bedside drawer and fumbled for the small vial of oil that was kept there. He coated his fingers thoroughly while Tandred watched, running a hand up Shaw’s thigh as he did.

Shaw was wary about making first contact. They laid together in bed, both naked as they’d ever been, but once he continued, there would be no turning back. Flynn, however, astute and impenitent as always--

“That’s it. Fuck him for me, Matt,” he said between rough pants. His hand skated along his rigid cock, stroking himself lightly. 

Distantly, Shaw thought that Flynn must’ve planned the whole thing, the insolent scoundrel. But as it were, the thought of Flynn watching and deriving pleasure from it only excited him. His hesitation dissolved to make way for lust, and he made a few circles before slowly pressing a finger inside. At that, Tandred made a whimpered noise that shot right in between his legs and roused some primal instinct within him. He growled.

Tandred’s whine turned long and drawn out as Shaw pulled his finger out most of the way only to thrust it back in. Emboldened by the response, he stuck a second finger in on the next pass, rocking them inside as he sought the spot that would make Tandred see stars. They both gasped when he found it, and Tandred bucked upwards reflexively. Precome leaked from him, pooling on his stomach and dripping down his side. With his other hand, Shaw dipped his fingers in the copious fluids, swiping it along his length as he indulged in the slick sensation of it.

Eventually, Tandred’s sounds turned needy and desperate, practically begging for what's to come. Shaw’s own breathing was ragged and heavy. He gave one last pressing crook of his fingers before withdrawing them. He dribbled some more oil along his already precome-slicked dick for good measure, before placing its head where his fingers had been just moments earlier. Again he hesitated, but Tandred gave him permission to proceed with the hunger in his eyes, threatening to devour him if he didn’t. Shaw thought he had been horny, but he was in no way prepared for the overwhelming lust that stirred in his chest then, nor the tightness that encircled him as he finally breached Tandred and slowly sheathed himself to the hilt.

It felt devastating in all the best ways possible. Heat radiated from his pelvis out through the rest of his body. Tandred’s breath came harsh and fast, ending in a deep groan when Shaw gave a tentative thrust.

" _Tides_..."

The first few were slow and methodical, as with everything Shaw did, but the sounds of pleasure Tandred made spurred him on. Soon he was slamming into him with reckless abandon, the sounds of their contact filling the cabin.

To the side, Flynn was stroking himself vigorously. A soft moan tumbled out the back of his throat, unabashed as he watched the two men fuck before him. Tandred’s eyes were closed, arms spread wide and dragging at the sheets beneath him. His mouth hung open as he made decadent sounds of sheer bliss. Shaw, ever quiet, made only small huffs and sighs of pleasure, but it was no less erotic. Maybe even more so, that the normally reserved spymaster couldn’t help the sounds that escaped him now. Flynn moaned again and picked up the pace.

Shaw was keenly aware of the body that enveloped him. The responses Tandred’s body made were unfamiliar to him, unlike the way Flynn writhed when they laid together, but the foreignness was thrilling. He wrapped one hand around Tandred’s cock, felt him twitch against his palm, and began to stroke in tandem with the movement of his hips. Tandred made a noise like the air had been punched out of his lungs, and pulled Shaw down by the neck into a passionate kiss. Tandred’s beard tickled where it brushed Shaw’s face. One of his hands flew up to tug at Shaw’s hair, eliciting a groan from him. The other clawed down his back in a way that’s sure to leave marks in the morning, but Shaw couldn’t bring himself to care. They tangled in the taste of each other as they kissed, licking at the other as though they’d been starved. Perhaps they had.

With a last few pounding thrusts and a scream, Tandred dug his heels into Shaw’s backside, arched up, and painted their front and Shaw’s hand as he spent his way through his orgasm. He clenched around Shaw, releasing the tightness that had been building deep in his core, sending him over the edge as well. He buried himself as deep as he could and submitted to the ecstasy that wracked him, biting into Tandred’s shoulder to muffle the sounds of his climax as he filled Tandred’s insides in pulses. As the last shudders of orgasm left him, he felt a sense of satisfaction to his very being. Flynn was still working behind him, but he barely registered it until he felt a hand push between his shoulder blades, followed by a grunt and a splash of hot fluid across his lower back.

There Shaw stayed, bowed over Tandred, streaks of come cooling on his skin as they caught their breath. After a moment, Flynn appeared with a kiss to Shaw’s temple and a cloth to wipe off his back, and he slowly eased himself out so they could finish cleaning. Tandred sat up on the edge of the bed as Flynn flopped down onto it.

“That was quite something, wasn’t it?” he said, stretching with a giggle before curling himself around Tandred. Tandred twisted around to look with apprehension. The bed was barely big enough for two, there was no way it was going to fit the three of them.

“Take the bed, Captain. I have work to finish,” Shaw said, as if reading his mind. He stretched upwards and rolled his shoulders before settling himself into the seat behind the table.

It took Tandred a minute before deciding there was no use arguing. Exhaustion seeped into his bones, and he nodded. He still needed to ask Shaw about the invasion, but there was no use talking strategy in his current state. Whatever it was can wait until morning.

Moonlight streamed through the porthole. Together with the candlelight, it illuminated the pair on the bed. They looked beautiful, there were simply no other words for it. Shaw looked at the blonde, his body hair glowing softly in the dim light. Next to him, the man who taught him how to open his heart again. Maybe there was a bit more room in there, he thought, and a sense of calmness settled over him. He allowed himself a smile, knowing there was nobody around to see it, before picking his pen up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No lesson was learned by our boys this day, they still didn’t lock the door


	6. Bonus Chapter: Alternate Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the plot is already bad, might as well go all out on it right?

(Continued from the end of the sex scene in Chapter 5)

With a last few pounding thrusts and a scream, Tandred dug his heels into Shaw’s backside, arched up, and painted their front and Shaw’s hand as he spent his way through his orgasm. He clenched around Shaw, releasing the tightness that had been building deep in his core, sending him over the edge as well. He buried himself as deep as he could and submitted to the ecstasy that wracked him, biting into Tandred’s shoulder to muffle the sounds of his climax as he filled Tandred’s insides in pulses.

He wasn’t afforded the luxury of an afterglow, however, because in the next instant--

“Mathias! Are you alright? I thought I heard a man scream--”

A knock, followed by an opening of the door, before the three of them could realize what was happening. A distinguished looking man with grey hair and a full beard peered through. Flynn squinted. He looked oddly familiar, but he couldn’t quite place the face before him.

He wasn’t given the time to figure it out on his own. Shaw had his face hidden in his hands. His ears were a shade of scarlet.

“Everything is fine, Halford!”

This delightful art by [@boilinsin on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/boilinsin/status/1341943614100840448)

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the true ending.


End file.
